


Captain Calamity's Copious Critical Failures

by ieroses



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Comedy, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Drabble, M/M, Noctis is a lot smoother than canon whoops, Supervillains, i say smoother, that's really super stretching the definition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 12:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14332794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ieroses/pseuds/ieroses
Summary: As prince of Lucis, Noctis finds himself getting kidnapped quite a lot. Regis argues the experience will help him grow as a person, and after all it only takes up a few hours on a Saturday. Maybe the occasional Wednesday night.Ardyn has a new intern though. And the intern’s got cute blonde hair and keeps silently laughing at his master’s grand speeches and also freckles.





	Captain Calamity's Copious Critical Failures

‘Oh man, did it have to be _tonight_?’ Noctis is muttering to himself, shifting against the ropes tying his hands to the chair. ‘It’s a Sunday. I have so much freaking work to do for tomorrow.’

 

Ardyn is pacing across the room, hands gesticulating wildly, surrounded by lots of metal and pipes and a frankly unnecessary amount of old broken tv sets. Noctis thinks he hears the phrases ‘ _quake in fear’_ , ‘ _finally reclaim my throne’_ and ‘ _bow down before me’_ but honestly Noctis isn’t really listening.

 

He’s heard these speeches a lot.

 

‘Tell me about it,’ a voice says from the shadows, ‘I have a project due tomorrow and now I’m stuck here. My contract sucks balls.’

 

Noctis jumps in his seat, because um … what?

 

He looks around, straining against his bonds, but Ardyn has him sat under a spot light – because he’s an absolute fucking drama queen – and Noctis is too blinded to see beyond it (except for Ardyn, who’s pacing in the _other_ spotlight).

 

‘Oops, yeah, sorry. You probably can’t see a thing.’

 

At the edge of the ring a blonde boy edges into the light. He flashes Noctis a wiry little smile. He’s waving slightly down at his side, but he’s holding a gun in the other hand so it sort of ruins the effect. Then again, the fringe and the glasses solidly destroy any _evil minion_ vibes he might have going for him, so what’s one more little discrepancy?

 

Noctis has been around this evil lair a lot. He definitely would have noticed some eye-candy-intern hanging around. ‘And you are?’

 

‘I’m Pro – No, wait. I… am _M. T._ ’ Intern says it all dramatically, voice lowering by two octaves and eyes widening, spreading his hands.

 

‘You’re fucking with me, right?’ He’s sort of whispering but Ardyn’s in his _zone_ now and he’s not coming out until someone comes to shoot at him.

 

Intern’s dramatic pose falters and he grimaces. ‘No. Captain Dramatic over there thought it’d be a great name – I haven’t a clue what it means. I’m just here because I’ve got to pay my rent and this was flexible hours.’

 

‘I’m not calling you MT.’

 

‘Why do you have to call me anything?’

 

‘I’m the son of that idiot’s arch-enemy. I’m kinda around here a lot. It’d be nice to have someone to pass the time with.’

 

Intern frowns. ‘You do realise I’m meant to shoot you when you try to escape, right?’ He waves the gun, as if that isn’t already obvious.

 

Noctis lets out a short burst of laughter, low and what practically counts as a fit coming from him. ‘C’mon, are you really going to shoot at me?’

 

Before Intern has a chance to answer, there’s a loud crash, a series of booms and a lot of suddenly flashing lights. As things go it’s a more dramatic rescue than usual and Noctis loses Intern in the commotion. He’s already slipped the prince’s mind when Gladio runs up to cut him free and escort him out of the burning building.

 

‘How was Ardyn?’ Gladio asks conversationally as they drive back to the palace, Ignis in the next seat over half-heartedly tracking Ardyn as he, once again, runs away.

 

‘Honestly, I think he just uses me as an alternative to a therapist. I do  _not_  want to listen to the shit in that guy’s head.’

 

*-*

 

‘Hey Intern, how’d your project go?’

 

Intern snaps his head around toward Noctis. For half a moment Noctis might have believed he’d been paying attention to his boss (Ardyn’s across the room, teasing Ignis via a giant skype projection on the wall. It’s hilarious because even Ignis clearly does not give a shit). Then Noctis notices the bloodshot and baggy eyes.

 

He whistles, low and impressive. ‘Jeeze, rough night?’

 

‘Something like that. Yeah, project went fine. Got some pretty cool shots of the burning warehouse. They went down pretty well.’

 

‘So… what do you do, when you’re not helping out Captain Calamity over there?’

 

Intern is sat cross-legged by Noctis’ chair, side on. He slides back on his arms and eyes Noctis warily. The prince almost points out that in such a position Intern wouldn’t even be able to aim his gun in time to have any real effect. But it’s hardly relevant now, is it?

 

‘Why do you care? Shouldn’t you be more concerned about the fact you’re handcuffed to a chair, three floors underground?’

 

‘Dude. C’mon. I’m a pro at this. We’re talking two evenings a week for the past eighteen months – give or take a few holidays here and there. On that note, I can’t believe Ardyn went to Galdin Quay without me? Talk about rude.’

 

Intern is just sort of staring now. Noctis arches an eyebrow, still waiting for an answer to his question.

 

‘I… take photos. Photography, I mean. Not, like, stalkerish.’

 

‘Neat. You in need of a model?’

 

‘A model? Why?’

 

‘I’m just saying I’ve had a long time dream of trying out nude modeling. Offer’s on the table. I’m just throwing it out there. One helpless captive to one adorably hot intern.’

 

Noctis is pleased to note he’s brought up a fierce blush on the boy. Achievement unlocked, he thinks, as Ardyn’s signal cuts out and Ignis’ real life voice calls out from across the basement.

 

*-*

 

Intern hasn’t even finished tying Noctis’ bonds before he’s reminding the blonde, ‘so, thought anymore about my offer yet?’ Ardyn is still busing “setting the scene” somewhere so they’ve got a few moments of alone time.

 

Intern’s fingers slip on the rope and he hears the boy choke. ‘I thought you were joking.’

 

Noctis drops his voice a few octaves, low and serious. ‘I never joke in life-threatening situations.’

 

‘I also thought you didn’t class this as a life-threatening situation?’

 

Intern stands, picking his gun up from off the floor and moving around to eye Noctis. ‘The kidnapping? No. Dat ass on the other hand…’ The prince flashes a smile and a wink.

 

Intern is saved from answering by the clatter of a warehouse door opening and slamming closed in the shadows. Two pairs of footsteps approach and then Ignis and Gladio appear, strolling casually, intrigued by the blonde but otherwise unworried.

 

All credit to Intern, he at least raises his gun. And the safety isn’t even on.

 

‘Careful, kid,’ Gladio drawls, ‘you could shoot someone with that thing.’

 

Noctis watches Intern’s grip on the weapon shift but his hand is steady, aiming eye clear. So maybe it’s sort of super hot.

 

‘You can either keep that thing trained on two highly qualified Kings Guards,’ Ignis says, already making moves to untie Noctis, ‘or you can go unlock your boss from the janitor’s closet.’

 

Noctis can’t help but laugh when Intern drops his aiming hand and mutters, ‘for fucks sake, again.’

 

Intern disappears quickly into the shadows but Noctis calls at his back, ‘I’ll expect an answer next week then, yeah?’ Gladio’s eyes follow Intern’s backside appreciatively as he stalks away.

 

Ignis scoffs. ‘The pair of you are as bad as each other.’

 

‘What,’ says Gladio, ‘Noct’s tastes are on point for once. Can’t blame me.’

 

‘Everyone forgetting that he works for the Arch-Nemesis Mop Man?’

 

‘Mop Man?’ Noctis cocks an eyebrow.

 

‘Yeah, not your best work there, Iggy.’

 

‘Fuck you guys. Can we _please_ leave the evil lair and go get dinner now?’

 

*-*

 

Noctis is teasing, has got Intern blushing and it’s fun and wonderful and frankly the best evening of the week so far. And then it all goes to shit.

 

Or maybe fate’s just trying to give everyone a good time and is finally giving Ardyn a break.

 

Gladio bursts through a hole in the ceiling, weapon drawn – he must be feeling athletic today if he’s willing to put that much effort in – but then Ardyn uses some new magic spell, shooting the misty illusions in Gladio’s direction, and the shield goes flying. He crashes through boxes and shelves, striking the far wall with a painful crunch, and collapses to the ground, unconscious.

 

There's a pause where even Ardyn stares. And then he punches both fists into the air, yelling ‘YES’ at the top of his lungs.

 

‘Well fuck me,’ Intern mutters from beside Noctis.

 

‘Of all the times for you to ask, you have to ask _now_?’

 

Distracted, it takes a moment for Intern to glance back over, frowning.

 

‘Anyway, hate to run, but it seems I’ve gotta save myself this time.’

 

Noctis throws his weight forward, bringing the chair up off its legs, tip toeing precariously as he throws the weight of it against the Intern – his muscled legs will get over some bruises (he looks like a runner?). When the object and the boy collide, there’s a solid _phwack_ (definitely a runner because _muscles_ ).

 

Intern is thrown for just a second by the sudden action from Noctis – the usually agreeable hostage. A sound across the room announces Ignis’ arrival as he lands, knives at the ready, but his attention turns to the still-celebrating Ardyn before considering the threat of the Intern.

 

Big mistake.

 

‘Thank fuck,’ Noctis mutters, noticing the appearance of another rescuer. It is with this distraction that Noctis fails to notice, at first, the sudden sharp blooming of pain in his arm and the loud _bang_ that echoes throughout the warehouse.

 

Everything stops.

 

Even Ardyn looks over, shocked, following Ignis’ gaze. Noctis glances down at where a darker black is seeping into the edge of the fabric on his arm.

 

‘You shot me.’

 

‘Sorry!’ Intern drops the gun, eyes wide and mouth falling into a wide O. ‘Shit, shit, shit. I didn’t – sorry!’

 

‘RUN,’ Ardyn yells, and for lack of anything better to do, the two villains book it.

 

It’s barely a graze, more likely a warning shot gone wrong, and Noctis has suffered more painful injuries in training, but still, ‘he shot me.’

 

Ignis wanders over to check him out, cleans him up, wraps a bandage around the wound, satisfied it’s not particularly pressing, and heads over to check on Gladio. As the two arrive beside him the shield is just waking up. ‘The fuck happened?’

 

‘Ardyn and Co. have apparently graduated from Little League,’ Noctis says, gesturing at his own wound.

 

‘Fuck man, battle wounds. Ardyn shot you?’

 

‘Nah, Intern did.’

 

‘Kinky.’

 

‘Hot, right?’

 

‘You,’ Ignis says, eyes narrowing, ‘have serious issues.’

 

By the time they reach the car Noctis still hasn’t wholly recovered. Three times on their trip to the hospital – insistence of Ignis – Noctis mutters, ‘I can’t believe he shot me.’

 

‘Calm down, Noct,’ Gladio finally says, ‘that’s probably, like, evil minion language for flirting.’

 

A pause, and then the crease from between Noctis’ eyebrows clears. ‘You really think so?’

 

Gladio stares for a moment. ‘Wow, you’re a dumbass.’

 

*-*

 

‘So my shield thinks you were flirting with the whole “using-your-gun-to-actually-shoot-me” thing, so I’ll let you off. I was thinking you could buy me a coffee to make up for it? Or I could buy you one to say thanks? I mean, maybe you’re into that shit. Kinky as hell, but I’m down for anything you are.’

 

There’s no answer for a long while. There are distant clangs and mutterings coming from Ardyn as he tries to get his evil ray gun or whatever to actually work but from cutie blonde? Nothing.

 

‘Intern?’ Noctis dares to go a bit louder but winces when his voice echoes back. Despite everything, he’s not sure Ardyn finding out his Intern is friends with his captive would be a good thing. That’s if they are friends?

 

But then it’s okay, because he hears Intern shuffling into place.

 

Noctis grins, glancing over, but his grin slides away just a quickly because Intern looks awful. Panda-eye shadows, gaunt, stretched skin, a sickly pallor not helped by his monochrome clothing.

 

‘Shit, man, you okay?’

 

Intern still has a gun but the way he’s handling it, all finger tips and shaking, makes it seem like he’d rather not. His eyes stay trained on the floor. ‘I- I’m really sorry I shot you.’

 

‘Hey, it’s no sweat. I’m more worried about you.’

 

Still, silence.

 

‘C’mon, man, we’re friends. Friends who share blood can share secrets.’

 

‘Share blood? The fuck is this – Vampire Diaries?’

 

‘To be fair, I’ve never actually seen Vampire Diaries, so I wouldn’t know. I meant about you making me bleed… never mind. This conversation is getting weird - my bad.’

 

For the first time things between them feel awkward. And then: ‘For the record, I haven’t seen Vampire Diaries either.’

 

‘O-kay. Good to know.’

 

A loud clatter echoes through the warehouse. Noctis doesn’t bother getting excited – it’s a Thursday and Ignis won’t be free for another half an hour or so to come pick him up. Sure enough, a grunt and a shout later, it’s clear the chaos is nothing more than Ardyn’s continued Ray-Based-Failures. Intern doesn’t seem particularly inclined to help him out.

 

‘It’s this job,’ Intern mutters, ‘Ard- Dr. Dastardly –’

 

‘ _That’s_ the name he chose for himself this week? Sorry, continue.’

 

‘He won’t let me take pictures while I’m at work anymore – something about a security risk – but it means I haven’t got any time for my projects cause I’m working so much. I basically never get time to sleep or eat or chill anymore and I am… _exhausted_.’

 

Noctis shifts against his bonds, attempting to twist to better meet Intern’s eye. ‘Why don’t you just get a different job?’

 

‘Once you have experience in one area it’s pretty hard to leave it. Do you know how many jobs there are going in the superhero/supervillain business?’

 

Intern glares at Noctis as though waiting for an answer. Noctis leans back and shrugs, trying to look sympathetic.

 

‘Next to none. If that. It sucks.’

 

‘Why don’t you come work for me?’

 

‘What?’

 

‘In case you haven’t noticed, my bodyguards aren’t always… available.’

 

‘Why would you want me to work for you? I… shot you.’

 

‘Ooookay, so, all honesty here? I wanna sleep with you. Oh… shit… sexual harassment is a thing, right? Okay, new plan. Iggy hires you, I bump into you around the palace, you finally cave to the weirdo and let the stalker prince take you for coffee. Just coffee. No strings. No naked modeling or kinky gun sex, I promise.’

 

‘You’re a weird dude.’

 

‘You try getting kidnapped on a weekly basis and not developing strange coping mechanisms.’

 

‘Fair point.’

 

‘We’d give you time for your projects – Iggy is adamant that education is important – and you can take photos on the job. You can even take photos of Ardyn; I bet that would right piss him off. It’d be hilarious.’

 

Intern’s frown smooths out into something considerate as he shifts on the spot. He still holds the gun, but it’s practically been forgotten. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

 

‘Absolutely. So?’

 

A silence, but then Intern looks away, wrapping his arms around his middle. ‘Let me think about it.’

 

‘Okay,’ says Noctis, surprised by the regret coiling in his gut, somehow knowing the unlikelihood that the Intern will really switch sides, ‘no problem.’

 

*-*

 

For a few weeks, Intern isn’t around. Noctis calls out for him, even Ignis and Gladio ask Ardyn about him, but all they gain is rambling rants about the ‘ _uselessness of youths_ ’ and how everyone under the age of thirty is ‘ _too ungrateful to appreciate when they’ve got lucky breaks_ ’.

 

Then, one Saturday afternoon, Noctis is humming to himself, arms beginning to ache from being tied tightly behind the chair – another reason to miss Intern, who always gave Noctis some slack – when a gunshot rings out throughout the lair. This is surprising, not least because people on the Kings Guard rarely use old fashioned ranged weaponry. But Ardyn screams, yells something about _next time, you’ll see, next. time._

 

Noctis isn’t sure Ardyn even stuck around long enough to see who it is, because the figure that meanders out of the shadows, still holding a smoking gun, is Intern. He smiles sheepishly, shrugging one shoulder. ‘My warning shot managed to actually be just a warning shot this time.’

 

‘Congratulations on… not aiming, I guess?’

 

Intern laughs. _Really laughs_. It leaves Noctis grinning, butterflies in his stomach. ‘If you’re here for that job the points on your probation period are dropping with every second you leave me strapped to this fucking chair.’

 

Intern is still smirking with amusement but he wanders over to untie Noctis anyway. ‘I’ll talk about the job later – because yeah, would be nice to be not poor or tired all the time – but, for now, how about that coffee?’

 

Noctis stands, shifting his body closer to Intern – not too much, just enough to be suggestive. ‘Oh, yeah? What changed your mind?’

 

‘Nothing. I guess eventually you just wore me down.’

 

‘I am pretty persuasive.’

 

‘I was more referencing the way you've been asking me a couple times every week for six months.’

 

‘Like I said: persuasive.’

 

Intern laughs, but Noctis sees the heat rise to his freckled cheeks and Intern won’t meet his eyes.

 

‘So MT, what’s your real identity?’ Noctis reaches out for a handshake.

 

‘Prompto,’ says Intern, finally looking up to make eye contact as he shakes Noctis’ hand.

 

‘Prompto. Nice to meet you, friend. You up for helping me pass the time?’

 

‘Definitely.’


End file.
